


This Time For Sure

by Shadowblayze



Series: Fragments 'Verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:05:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblayze/pseuds/Shadowblayze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had been so sure that he'd been headed for 'The Next Great Adventure', he just never planned on it quite being like this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time For Sure

Harry Potter closed his eyes and exhaled quietly through his nose.

_It’s all come to this, huh?_

Harry was standing at the edge of the Hogwarts Wards, enjoying the sense of home that Hogwarts had always seemed to exude for him.  It had been nearly twenty-five years since the end of the Second Blood War, but more importantly for Harry it had been nearly twenty-five years since he had taken on the title of the Master of Death.

Death was actually an alright sort of being, genderless and ageless, compassionate and unyielding but above all Death enjoyed balance- for without Death there is no Rebirth.

Harry had raged about that new title for a while at Number Twelve after the cleanup efforts from the Battle of Hogwarts were well underway.  He’d then dusted himself off and joined Kingsley’s Ministry- throwing himself into helping with the Tribunals, then with revising numerous pieces of legislation, and generally trying to get on with his life.

Ginny had been brilliant at helping him recover, but their romantic relationship had fizzled out.  She had been instrumental during the months immediately after the War- she’d been there through the nightmares and the panic attacks and everything- so it had been a heartbreaking day when they had looked at each other over the breakfast table and realized that they _loved_ but were not _in love_. Ginny, bless her, had soldiered on with the same determination that she’d once used against the spirit of Tom Riddle, being there with him even when he tried to push her away in a vain attempt to spare her more heartache.

It had barely been a decade since the end of the War when the next calamity struck.

Well, they shot themselves in the foot, to be honest.

Muggle technology had never worked around magic, and the _Obliviate_ spell was an encompassing sort of charm taking care of memories, triggers, and circumstantial evidence- so they had assigned a few people to the ‘Muggle Technology Erasure Committee’ and moved on with more important things, safe in the knowledge that they were still keeping their world safe.

All it had taken was a series of accidental magics from several muggleborns that were recorded by smartphone and posted on the Internet for everything to spiral out of control.

Things had spiraled quickly, the ICW almost powerless in the face of the Internet’s far-reaching audiences, too many people, too many sites, not enough wands- and then special interest groups and governments were putting pieces together that they wouldn’t have otherwise, for the mind is a tricky thing and once you know that it has or could be tampered with the innate sense of self within a person reaches through the mists and tears through the delicate, foreign entity lurking in the shadows.

People started remembering things- from Grindelwald, from Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the Order, the Ministry.

The Witch Hunts were restarted, there was panic, some people were kind, but the ones who wanted all magicals dead, dying, or collared far outweighed them, and everything burned in fire from all sides.

So many lives lost- too many. Children, mostly.  Innocents and those who were simply suspected of being magicals but weren’t as the whole world turned against itself.

So, now Harry stood at the edge of the Hogwarts Wards for the last time, the letter that he’d left for Hermione- truly the brightest witch of her generation- safely ensconced at Gringotts Bank, as he drew one last breath of home before calling out gently, “Death?”

The being phased into existence, tall and slender with pale skin, a cowl that overshadowed their face and a rather expensive suit, “Yes, Master?” the Being rasped.

Harry smiled at his companion and reached out his hand towards the being, “I’m ready.”

Death reached out and clasped his Master’s hand, “Goodbye, Master.”

Harry smiled brighter as he thought about what he was doing, giving up his power and his title to reverse the clock to give Hermione and the others enough time to prepare for the impact that the rapid progression of technology would bring.  He’d left her detailed notes, some in her own hand, and he just knew that she would make this sacrifice worth the cost.  “Goodbye Death.” Harry murmured as the touch of Death reached his core and his world turned white.

Death stared at the soul of their Master as the world faded to grey and Time bowed to Death’s call.  Harry Potter had vexed Death from that moment where Lily Potter had assisted in the rebounding of the killing curse cast by Tom Riddle.

However……

Harry had also given _so much_ to everyone around him, even when he felt hollow and lonely as everyone else moved on and had families, and then the _foolish boy_ had placed himself at the frontlines of another war because Harry believed that he had nothing to lose, nothing to fear.

Death had watched the young man be truly selfishly selfless and began to feel somewhat fond of the young man who was so incredibly humble despite the power at his disposal.

Death pursed their lips under the shadow of their Cowl, as they gently turned their Master’s soul around in their hands.

What to do?

_Ah_. 

That was an idea.

Just as the moment of insertion arrived, Death decided to add their own creative flare to the process.

Death flicked their hand and Master’s soul flared brightly for a moment before bursting into a thousand shards of color as the world came back into focus and the wailing started.  Master had chosen the moment of Tom Riddle’s final defeat to return to, to try and give that Granger woman all the time he possibly could to save the magical world from discovery and destruction.

Death hummed as they faded back into their Realm, realizing that they might have made a tiny miscalculation and they weren’t going to answer Master’s calls until the brat was at least ten.

Ten was a mature age for humans, right?

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry was going to find a way to _kill_ Death.

Blinking sleepily, (in his new, easily tired, unfamiliar, newborn-baby body), Harry took in the blurry colors all around him.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here in this new world, but he recognized the language being spoken around him as being Asian in origin.

Harry was fluent in English, French, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, and some Dutch- but he’d never had a reason to learn one of the outlying languages.  So, the poor reincarnated man had no idea what name he now bore, where he was, or when he was- he did, however, have a sinking suspicion that he was no longer a _he_.

His birth was a moment that he was more than happy to forget, but the warmth of the woman who had held him had been amazing.  His father had come a few days later, and there was a child who snuck into the nursery at night and ran gentle, chubby fingers through his hair until someone would come in and shoo the other out of the room.

Harry kind of hoped that he had a sibling.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Time plodded forward and everyday his vision got clearer and his fully developed mind began to understand what was being said.  Finally one day he woke up from one of his naps and the world was clear for the first time, he noted the traditional Japanese room that he was in, all splashes of vibrant color against warm wood. 

Harry gurgled and cooed and reached for the black-haired boy who had been leaning over him with chubby, uncoordinated fingers.  Harry tried his best to make happy sounds, but there was a lot of spitting and squeaks, mostly.

“Imouto?” the boy asked curiously, grabbing a nearby cloth and cleaning up the mess that Harry was making before checking the area and slipping into the crib with Harry.  The boy had grey eyes, Harry realized, and classic Asian features- black hair, lithe build- but the boy was gentle as he lay beside Harry and let the baby grab at his fingers.

“Kyouya?” Harry’s new mother’s voice called, and the door slid open before the boy could even think to escape from the crib.  “Are you in here again?”

The boy-Kyouya, apparently- looked guilty but cuddled stubbornly closer to Harry as the woman came further in the room.

The woman gave a loving sigh and came closer to sit on the chair near the crib, “You two.” She said fondly, “Are going to be inseparable at this rate.”

“She’s my baby sister.” Kyouya pouted at his mother.

The woman’s smile stretched wider, even as Harry mentally lamented his loss of masculinity as he, (she), wiggled closer to her _brother_.  “Aa, that is true.  She’s the first Hibari princess to be born in over a hundred and fifty years. You must grow strong so that you can keep away all the useless herbivores who will wish to crowd her.”

Kyouya nodded solemnly and Harry kind of wondered what kind of princess they thought he was going to be- definitely not the stay-in-the-tower kind.

“She will, of course, know how to defend herself.” Said a male voice from the doorway, and Harry figured that this must be his father because he looked like Kyouya’s clone.  “However, just because she can defend herself, doesn’t mean that she should _have to do so_ , not with her brother by her side.”

Kyouya nodded seriously, “I will bite all the crowding herbivores to death.”

The woman grinned sharply and the man smirked and Harry just _knew_ he was going to be sick of that phrase.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

_ Age Four _

“ _Hibari Miyako, get back here this instant!_ ”

Miyako- who had gotten used to be called such over the past four years- giggled quietly as she made her way down the hallway, making sure to put all of her mother’s stealth training to good use as she evaded the exasperated kitchen staff, having once again snuck in to grab herself a snack when she wasn’t supposed to have apples before dinner. 

(Apparently, the staff were under the impression that the things made her hyper.)

She skidded around the corner and nearly ran into the person on the other side.  “Kyouya-nii!” she said happily, taking a bite out of her apple with a rather satisfying crunch.

Kyouya quirked an eyebrow at her, arms crossed over his chest, before his gaze flicked towards her snack, “Hn.  Why aren’t you practicing your Kata, small animal?”

Miyako grinned cheekily as she finished off her apple with a flourish, “Finished for the day!”

Kyouya grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the dojo gently prying the fruit remains from his little sister and handing it off to one of the staff, “There is no such thing as finished, small animal.  We need to work off that apple or you’ll be insufferable all evening.”

“But Kyouya-“ Miyako started to whine, tugging at her brother’s hand in protest.

“Kyouya, Miyako.” 

The deep male voice stopped both children in their tracks and they bowed hurriedly, “Father.” They both greeted the Hibari Clan Head respectfully.

“Hn.  If you have the energy to terrorize the kitchen staff, you have the energy to train, Miyako.  A Hibari princess does not get caught _stealing apples._ ”

Miyako’s lips twitched slightly, it had taken a while to reconcile her identity, but she had decided to enjoy the gift that Death had given her as she was sure that something would happen _eventually_ to disrupt her somewhat peaceful life, so she was enjoying the peace while it lasted.  However, she was sure that her father wasn’t a firm believer in the law from some of the things that he said from time to time- like now.  “I’m sorry, Father.  One of the cooks came in unexpectedly.  They don’t leave apples in the baskets any longer.”

Father’s lips quirked up on one side, but he did not smile, “Then we must teach you to evade.  Come, both of you.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Miyako clung to her mother, desperate to _not go_ into the Kindergarten building that they were standing in front of _\- she was not crying, she was a Hibari_ \- but she was fairly certain that Yun’s shirt would tear if the woman kept trying to shoo her forward.

“Come, now, Miyako-chan, Kyouya is already inside.”

“Kyouya-nii is in First Grade, Mama.”

Her mother sighed in exasperation, “You know that he’ll find excuses to come check on you, Miyako-chan.  Now stop clinging and act like a proper Hibari.”

“Yes, Mama.” Miyako grumbled as she detached herself from her mother’s shirt.


End file.
